


Locket

by butterflyslinky



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 18:12:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4756190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyslinky/pseuds/butterflyslinky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For sixty years, Gloin has regretted losing his locket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Locket

Of all the things Gloin regretted losing, the locket was the one that still hurt the most.

A lot of people might have thought that was silly. He’d lost his king, his princes, and most of his dignity in the quest to reclaim Erebor. What was a locket compared to all of that?

But those pictures of his wife and son…well, those couldn’t be replaced, not really. Oh, he had commissioned new portraits, gotten a new locket, but it wasn’t the same.

It had been missing for sixty years. No, not missing. Stolen. By that pointy-eared elvish princeling. That elf had done a lot—locked them in dungeons, stepped on their heads, taken all their weapons—but Gloin would never, ever forgive him for taking that locket and never returning it.

*

A council was called in Rivendell, and Gloin, along with his son Gimli, was sent to represent the dwarves. He was old now, white-haired and weary after so many years and so much sorrow, but Gimli was still young and strong and eager. Gimi had grown into a fine dwarf, and Gloin was so terribly proud of him.

Rivendell was exactly as it had been sixty years before. Too open, too airy, with snooty elves sweeping about everywhere, but at least it was clean and the elves weren’t too impolite. Gloin spoke to them politely, and Gimli followed his lead, though Gloin couldn’t help but laugh to himself when he caught sight of the fountain where they had bathed, or when he saw the servant who had been so scandalized by them cough and mutter politely about it being nice to see him again. Gloin couldn’t even be angry about the obvious lie.

And of course, Bilbo was there, with his own fine lad. Bilbo was old and tired, but he still laughed and reminisced with Gloin about their quest, and Frodo was a charming lad, if a bit more serious than his uncle.

It wasn’t to his taste, but Rivendell was nice enough. Gloin was content with that.

*

The council itself wasn’t terribly interesting to Gloin.

Or it wouldn’t have been, if he hadn’t recognized the representative of Mirkwood. The prince was thinner than when Gloin had first seen him, more solemn, but he was still hot-blooded, still stubborn, and Gloin still wanted to kill him.

But no. They were here as guests, and really, murdering a prince of the kingdom right next to Erebor would be a very bad move, politically. So Gloin bit his tongue and let Gimli give the prince the tongue-lashing he so well deserved.

It wasn’t until after the council, a company chosen and Gimli about to go on an even more perilous journey than the one Gloin took, that Gloin even looked at the prince for more than a moment, and it was not by choice.

The prince approached him, his eyes down, his expression almost sheepish. Or at least, that’s how Gloin interpreted it. Elves were notoriously difficult to read.

“Excuse me,” said the prince—Legolas, he had been called in the council. “But…um…we met some years ago…”

“I remember,” Gloin said shortly.

The tips of Legolas’s ears turned red, but he pressed on. “Yes…I am sorry about all that,” he said. “And I want to make amends.”

Gloin raised his eyebrows. “What amends can you make to me?” he asked. “You took that which was most precious to me on that journey. The only thing I had to remind me of home.”

“I know,” Legolas said. He reached into his tunic and produced a chain.

The chain attached to the long-lost locket.

Slowly, Legolas held out his hand. Gloin stepped forward and took the necklace reverently. He opened the locket and saw them, his wife and son, smiling back at him.

“I’m sorry,” Legolas whispered. “For my ill words toward them, and for not returning this sooner.”

Gloin blinked back tears. Not here. Not in front of the elf.

“Thank you,” he said abruptly, and turned to retire to his room.

“Master Gloin!”

He glanced back and Legolas seemed even more uncomfortable. “Your son has grown into a fine man,” he said. “And I will see that he comes to no harm on our journey.”

Gloin nodded. “Aye, you do that,” he said.

It wasn’t until he was safely in his own room that he allowed the tears to fall.


End file.
